


Will of the Wood

by stellarpromise



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Elementals, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarpromise/pseuds/stellarpromise
Summary: The Wood has plans for a young Miqo'te, but he has his own path to walk.
Kudos: 2





	Will of the Wood

In the three years since the Calamity K’rihri had thrown himself into his studies. Conjury had been something of a whim before; a natural extension of his affinity for aether and an easy exercise that lessened the sickness he’d be struck with whenever passing by the places the elementals congregated. But now, it had consumed his daily routine. In the mornings, long before his chores, he would coax the flowers to grow and turn to face the sun. His noontimes were spent with the Conjurer’s Guild, attending to the basics. From twilight to evening he would spend additional time under E-Sumi-Yan’s tutelage, the Padjal quite interested helping with the development of what he diagnosed as an “unusual, but not malignant” aetheric signature. Even his nights saw his room dappled with the light of a spell he practiced not necessarily to improve further, but to maintain the skills he already had.

  
It was clear the Miqo’te was on the brink of exhausting himself, but his parent’s words did little to dissuade him. They’d fret all about, but all he did was smile and dismiss their concerns. These concerns were pushed into E-Sumi-Yan’s lap, and sigh did the Padjal at the boy’s exertions on yet another lesson beneath an orange-red sky.

  
“K’rihri. Cease for but a moment.”

  
Immediately he cut off the flow of aether to his palm, dropping the large blossom he had been floating. He frowned lightly at it, puzzling over if he had been doing something wrong. Should it have been rotating differently? Was that not the most effective aetheric push? What-

  
“No, you’ve not done _wrong_ ,” E-Sumi-Yan said with a shake of his head. “In fact, with your proficiency in our arts I fail to see why you are pushing yourself so. Were the art not reserved for some select Padjal by the Elementals, I would believe you well ahead to becoming a White Mage. Every so often your aether trembles, and both myself and your parents worry you are overworking yourself. I may be in part to blame, encouraging and agreeing to these extra lessons… but there is certainly something driving you forward. I would know of it.”

  
“I…”

  
E-Sumi-Yan’s steady stare prompted him to speak true, but K’rihri could not answer right away. _If there is something I can do to help, I should do it._ That was the feeling burned into his heart as he’d been made to hide from the fallout of the Garleans’ march on Carteneau and the Dreadwyrm’s awakening rather than be allowed to stand beside his parents as they faced the attacks head-on. Now that he’d acquired some degree of practical skill that desperate why can’t i had become an I should always. 

  
“It’s just…something I can do. I want to be able to help everyone.”

  
“That is a noble desire; but you must understand that _can_ does not always mean _should_. If you wear yourself down so, you will have little left to offer when you find yourself needing to most. The basic principles of Conjury instruct us to borrow from what is around us and give it back; changed, but as whole as possible. To act as you are, unprompted, is akin to drawing on your own aether to perform Conjury, and as I’m sure you recall from our first lessons: this can be fatal.”

  
The Padjal rested his hand on K’rihri’s cheek.

  
“You will most likely not be able to help everyone, little one. Trust your body, and if you feel yourself weaken you must rest. You help no one at the point of exhaustion, and you concern us more the closer you get to it.”

  
K’rihri thought for a moment, leaning into his hand before nodding and drawing away. 

  
“I do understand Brother. I will try. Still, it is difficult… though perhaps not for what you think? You say I am skilled in Conjury, and in the practical sense I feel–practiced. Yet there is something missing…some element that keeps me…I know not how to say it. I feel at ease practicing Conjury, I feel like it brings me closer to something else. It only faintly reminds me of it, like dejá vu, but I feel like I’ll understand it if I do more.”  
E-Sumi-Yan crossed his arms, nodding once every so often. 

  
“Your words remind me of that of another,” He said fondly. “Though I wish I could provide more counsel, that is something I believe you will need to find out on your own. But my caution stands all the same. There is more time than you feel ahead of you, so pace yourself with this journey. For as long as I can, when I can, I will be more than happy to help. I might suggest that, should the opportunity arise, you seek out other schools of magic. Although practice can certainly make a master of any skill for many, your body’s aetherial balance could find a different art more suitable.”

  
K’rihri opened his mouth slowly before pursing it shut. He hadn’t considered it, but branching out into the other disciplines could be the key. It was a mere moon until his mother’s next trip to Limsa, and from her lamentations over how long the guild’s inspections could delay her imports, he had become familiar with the Arcanist’s guild. Their sort of spellcraft sounded quite different from Conjury, but he was happy to try to learn more. And, with his sister rather obviously wanting to take management of the family farm, he wouldn’t have to worry about leaving it behind.

  
E-Sumi-Yan offered a smile at his student’s far off gaze, lost in himself again. “I would miss our conversations. It is rare, I am sad to say, that I find pupils as attentive to my teachings and curious of our roots as you—but as A-Towa-Cant believed, it is often new experiences outside of ourselves that deepen our understanding of what is within. You would go with my blessing and recommendation.”

  
“I…I thank you, Brother. I think that is what I’ll do.”

  
A bell later, their lesson finished, the young Miqo’te saw himself off home. E-Sumi-Yan watched his figure fade into the last of the evening twilight, then turned to the thick of the wood near their practice space. A light breeze blew by and three lights appeared, lengthening their shapes into sylph-sized, glowing, padjal-like creatures of various colors. He knelt briefly.

  
_E-Sumi-Yan._   
_We._   
**_Felt._ **

  
They fluttered about, closing in on him and dancing away.

  
_You._   
**_Will._ **   
_Train._   
_ Hornless. _   
_I **t** is **the** wi **l** l **of** th **e** wo **od.**_

  
E-Sumi-Yan closed his eyes, neutral expression twitching ever so slightly to a frown. “I will gladly continue to do so, but I will not bind him here should he wish to go.”

  
_**He** _   
_Will _   
_Return?_

  
The Padjal turned back to where his student had faded into the horizon. His brows knitted as his face relaxed from its expression of well-cultured neutrality into one of pained concern.

  
“…If _She_ wills it, I am certain.”


End file.
